


Anything I Could Do

by Insert_Skill_Here



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, Gen, Oneshot, Prompt Fic, Self-Hatred, Symbolism, Tumblr Prompt, idk what to put here lul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 04:56:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16469177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insert_Skill_Here/pseuds/Insert_Skill_Here
Summary: “If you had asked, I would have done it. There’s nothing in this world that I wouldn’t have done for you.”





	Anything I Could Do

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Welcome to my first fic on this website! This work is betad by me; all mistakes are mine. I always have a habit of overthinking what I'm posting, and I need to get into the mindset of shorter but still effective works. I always want to do a long term project haha. Anyway, this was based off the prompt in the summary, and I hope you enjoy! I will warn you, there is some self hatred. Nothing particularly too bad, but it's still worth mentioning if you are sensitive to such things.

     “If you had asked, I would have done it. There’s nothing in this world that I wouldn’t have done for you.”

 

     A tense silence followed the declaration, Jeremy’s hand on the door. His hand dug into the wood. He could imagine what Michael looked like right now, behind him. His hands would be clenched at his sides, jaw working as he tried so hard not to cry. Jeremy recalled, a long time ago, laughter. Hazy afternoons and a declaration that “ _Crying’s a waste of time, Jer! Why would I be alone in my room crying when I could be playing video games with you?_ ”

 

     A lot of things had changed since then.

 

     Of course, Jeremy could handle Michael’s anger, his tears. What he couldn’t handle is what the tears hid and blurred. Michael’s eyes had always fascinated Jeremy. They were a deep, dark brown, almost black. Most people would compare Michael’s eyes to coffee, or chocolate. Not Jeremy. To him, Michael’s eyes were akin to a campfire. Michael had always had many passions and enthusiasms, dancing from one topic to another and diving deep into whatever sparked his interest, often burning himself out in the process. His eyes both could be a warming comfort or a burning anger. Right now, Jeremy was feeling the former; a dying fire trying to latch onto anything and everything to keep itself from burning out, from falling apart completely.

 

Jeremy hated to be the person with the water. 

 

Michael was rambling now, stuttering and stammering and tripping over his words as he tried to make sense of an impossible situation.

 

“I just don’t understand,” He sobbed to Jeremy’s back. “I don’t understand what I  _ did _ .”

_"You didn’t do anything!_ " He wanted to scream. He wanted to take it all back. Jeremy wanted to turn around and say " _I’m sorry! I didn’t mean for it to turn out this way!"_  But the words caught in his throat. Like they always do.

 

A cold hand placed itself on his back. Blue light flickered in the corner of his vision, and electricity raced down his spine.

If Michael was fire, Jeremy was ice. Ruining everything in his path, carving a path of destruction using cold and death and snow. His touch was frigid, his eyes a freezing blue. Everything about him was _terrible_. 

 

“You didn’t do anything.” Jeremy’s voice came out dull, disinterested. Regret was already snaking around in his stomach. _Everything about him made him want to die_.

“ _Go on._ ” The voice whispered in his ear, cold and unforgiving. His hand moved from the wood to the knob, his hand touching the chilled metal.

Jeremy swallowed, feeling the heat of Michael’s gaze against his back. Ice crept up the door. Jeremy was a menace, a blizzard. A distant ocean, relentless in it's wake. A small part of him heard the waves crash. They were both drowning, for different  ~~yet the same~~ reasons.

 

“You were never enough in the first place.”  Jeremy opened the door and briskly walked out, almost running down the hall as he left the too hot room behind.  He tried not to imagine Michael falling to the floor, hand flying up to his mouth. He tried not to imagine his friend wondering what he got so wrong that Jeremy hated him with a burning, cold passion.  He walked faster, ignoring the whispers in his ear. Down the stairs. Out the exit. Cold wind snapped at his face, and he sighed, pulling his scarf over his face. Pulling his coat closer to himself, he walked away from his old life, away from laughter and away from warmth.  Away from disappointment, away from judgement. He was going to do something with his life.

And if he had to put out a few fires?   
  
  
So be it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Kudos are appreciated, comments are loved, and constructive criticism is worshiped! I'm a newer writer, so help in that field is always accepted! Tell me what you liked, what you didn't, etc; it helps me get better at doing what I love! Anyways, I'll see you next time, cuties~


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